On the Catwalk
by Kyoko Kasshu Minamino
Summary: Dana pulls the plug on her relationship with Terry and Max is afraid to break it to him. Also, they get assigned a modeling class. Insanity and mixed feelings ensue. Is this Max's chance to tell him how she feels? UPDATE: Revamped version up!
1. Get ready to model!

On the Catwalk 

Disclaimer:

Kyoko: Konnichiwa! Kyoko here, crazy and Batman Beyond obsessed as usual. New thing though, this is just a regular Terry/Max pairing, no original character. Max is still with Terry. I wrote this because…I can. (grins)

TERRY'S GOT JUNGLE FE-VAH! TERRY'S GOT JUNGLE FE-VAH!

TERRY'S GOT-Ow! (is bonked on head by Terry)

Terry: Not funny. Hey, I thought you were a Melanie shipper?

Kyoko: Like you care.

Terry: Good point. Kyoko does not own Batman Beyond.

Kyoko: Yes, and it makes me sad…;.; PG-13 for some sensuality. Adios!

…

"What's this week again?" McGinnis asked me for the 40th time. I rolled my eyes and looked up from my textbook.

"Career week."

He snorted. "Why bother? Most of the people at school'll end up either pumping gas or hanging out on 5th street."

I tried to resist a grin but failed, chuckling.

I was lying on my stomach on my bed, trying valiantly to study and teach Terry what he'd missed for the past year. He was making it difficult.

"Sad, but true," I commented, glancing over my shoulder at the clock. 7:41. I sighed and closed the book.

"You'd better head out before the old man has a stroke from yelling at you." I said, watching him slide the Batman mask over his face.

"Yeah. I'll be back soon as I can. See ya."

With that, my best friend jumped out of the window and glided on red wings to the hidden batmobile.

I sighed again, rolling onto my back and staring at the ceiling, arms spread. Now that I was alone I could think. How long had it been like this, 8, 9, 10 months? Student by day, dark avenger by night. I still wished I could be with him. Both ways.

The phone rang and I rolled over, picking it up with a half-hearted,

"Hello?"

"Hey Max. You seen Terry?" It was Dana. I fought the urge to sigh again and replied automatically.

"He's at work. You want me to give him a message?"

Dana let out a frustrated breath.

"Sometimes it feels like I'm dating a ghost. He's married to Wayne and no matter what I do I can't get through to him. I'm tired of it, Max, I really am. It's over."

My pulse quickened, heart hammering in my throat.

"What! Dana, wait, could you think about this for a second, he-"

"No more waiting, Max. I know he's a good guy and all but that's not what I need. I have my own life. Tell him I'm sorry."

"Dana, you don't understand-"

The phone buzzed dead. I held it like a dork for a few seconds, calling, "Dana? Dana!"

I lay back and replaced the receiver.

Holy crap…this was bad. How on earth would I break this to Terry? He's worked his butt off every night and tried to be the best boyfriend and now…

'But isn't that what you wanted?' That evil little voice in my head smiled nastily. I squeezed my eyes shut and told that voice to go to hell. I cursed over and over in my head. He didn't deserve this. What was I going to say? How would he take it? Badly, I knew. But then, wouldn't that be a chance for me to tell him how I really felt? To…to…

I shook my head furiously and shoved my face into a pillow, completely miserable.

"Max…Max…"

Terry called me in the darkness, lips inches from mine. I reached for him, ready to fill my mouth with the taste of his but someone shook my shoulder, shattering the dream. I lifted my face, blinking and found Terry. My pulse jumped to life and I almost blushed, raising up on one arm.

"Huh?"

He looked down my still-clothed bodyand raised an eyebrow.

"Tired?"

I looked at the clock. 11:26.Whoah.

I tried to be cheerful and failed miserably, sitting up.

"Sorry…been studying all night." I stood and grabbed my night clothes from my dresser drawer, heading for the bathroom.

My nightclothes consisted of a men's large t-shirt and silk bottoms that were comfortable without being immodest. I slipped them on solemnly and came back out. I crawled back onto the bed next to McGinnis and opened the World Economics book.

…

"The percentage of Asia's income is 64.9…no, wait, that's not it…dammit…" I muttered, scratching at my paper with the erasable pen. I scribbled the new equation and raked a hand through my hair, trying to clear my mind.

"Max, whoah, whoah, slow down there, you're blowing a fuse somewhere in there," McGinnis said, a worried frown, clouding his face. I massaged my forehead, frustrated at my lack of accuracy and concentration.

"You should take a break; we've been at it all night."

I shook my head. "No, we've still got Pre-Calculus sections to do, a four-page essay to go over and-"

He silenced me with finger on my lips. I fell silent.

"You're overworking your brain. 15 percent, Max, 15 percent." When I didn't smile, he frowned.

"What's wrong? You've been really out of it tonight." He asked, turning those baby blues on me. I met his eyes and looked away, hiding all the jumbled up emotions in them.

"It's…It's nothing, just too much stress, that's all."

He sighed, rubbing his neck and laying back on my pillow.

"Yeah…stress."

We lapsed into silence for a few moments.

"I'm bored. Wanna have sex?"

I blushed and laughed so abruptly it surprised me. He sat up, grinning.

"She smiles. So I'm not a useless best friend after all."

"Sure you aren't…OW!" He smacked me with a pillow. I returned fire. From then on, we acted like two brothers, bashing each other with pillows until we collapsed from weariness.

The last thing I remember was the smile on his face, and warm hands on my body…

…

5th period, Hamilton High School

I leaned on my arm, eyes drooping as the thirteenth career person explained his job and blah, blah, blah. It had all blended into one big, boring Career Day. I fought to stay awake, lazily side-glancing at Terry. He was already asleep. The room was getting darker.

I lay on a bed in a long white gown that left my shoulders bare and dipped in the front, on my side watching Terry come towards me with those beautiful eyes. His chest gaped through the black button up shirt that hung open, sliding against his smooth skin as he moved. When he reached me, he held a white rose over my body, slowly tracing the length of my face my neck, my shoulders. He lowered his face to mine, lips inches away.

"…Mr. McGinnis and Miss Gibson!"

I jumped awake. The teacher glared at me disapprovingly. McGinnis lifted his head, blinking sleepily.

"Huh?"

"It seems you two are having SO much fun on Career Week. How about I assign you to our next participate?"

At this comment, a woman, oh God I think it's a man, appeared in the door, grinning like he'd just won a million dollars.

"Hellooo class!" he beamed at everyone, gay lisp and all. Dear God, no…

"This, class, is Mr. Peter Wilkinson."

He wore a pink pullover sweater that only exposed the white collar of the button up shirt underneath, that went down to blue-and-white plaid pants that were way too tight and had pink lines to match the sweater.

I tried to keep the horror off of my face but it didn't work.

"Mr. McGinnis and Miss Gibson, come down and meet your new teacher for the remainder of the week," the teacher said, smirking. Miserable, I stood and slumped my way down the steps to the front. McGinnis following and muttering, "Great, just what I need. A fairy godfather."

I held back a lazy snicker and tried not to look as miserable as I was. Mr. Wilkinson smiled even wider (Although I'm sure it's to the hurting point, now) and shook our hands weakly. Might as well have given us high-fives. McGinnis looked like he wanted to either puke or run screaming. I managed a half-smile.

"Mr. Wilkinson-"

"Call me Petey."

"…Mr. Wilkinson, is a model instructor."

My eyebrows rose and Terry blurted out,

"You're kidding, right?"

"No, silly! I'm the owner of Fabulous Cinco clothing line, which is coming out very soon. You two peaches will be my first models at the Grandeur opening."

I wanted to cry. I think Terry did too.

"Your first session will begin at five o'clock this afternoon. Be ready to work!" With a wink, our happy new instructor took his seat next to the rest of the frightened Career Day people. I dragged myself back to my seat and fought the urge to bang my head against the table.

"Why me? Why, McGinnis, why?" I moaned, head buried in my arms.

"Tell me about it. Me, modeling?" his head connected with the table, making a solid "thunk" sound.

"Kill me now…"

…

First chapter, let me know what you think! REVIEW!

Kyoko Kasshu Minamino


	2. How do I feel?

On the Catwalk 

4:45 PM

I shoved the textbook in my locker and shut it, jumping as I spotted Mr. Wilkinson…uh, Petey, smiling that 100-watt smile.

"Good afternoon, Miss Gibson! Here's your assignment for today, make sure to get your cutie partner his as well. Directions are on the back! Tootles!" he flounced off.

I stared at his retreating back for a second, then looked at the paper.

"Oh God…

…

"We have to do what?!"

McGinnis shouted indignantly. I nodded sadly, stuffing the dreaded bikini in my duffel bag.

"First lesson in modeling is posing for an art class."

Terry collapsed on my bed spread-eagle and closed his eyes, running a hand through his tousled black hair. I stared for a few seconds longer than I should have, taking in the absolutely wonderful presence of his body across my bed. I snapped out of it and half-blushed, turning back to my bag and shouldering it.

"C'mon, let's go. I'll meet you there."

He sighed and got up, following me out.

…

I clutched Terry's jacket around me, furious.

"Terry, there are BOYS in that class, I am not going!" I hissed angrily.

"Tell that to Mr. Fashion Fairy! Do you think I WANT to pose half-naked in front of people I don't know?!" he hissed back. (A/N: Oh, and you want to pose half-naked in front of people you DO know? (evil grin) )

"We have GOT to get this assignment changed."

Terry smirked darkly. "Hey, at least we're not naked."

That comment made me blush and visions of naked Terry flashed across my mind. I shook my head and jumped as the classroom door opened.

Mr….Petey was wearing some sort of painter's outfit, complete with a small paintbrush tucked behind his left ear.

"Come in!" he chirped, beckoning us. McGinnis made gagging noises and I choked back a laugh.

The students were in individual spots all over the room, big easels in front of them, chairs set to the side so they could see. There were at least 20 of them. Great.

"Today, class, we have two lovely seniors from Hamilton Hill High School. We'll do some individuals and then some pairings."

I blinked, shocked. "Wh-What d'you mean pairings?"

"Y'know, pairings? You and Mr. McGinnis will do some poses for us together."

Now my head was on fire.

The little evil voice in my head started to say something but I told it to shut the hell up.

Petey clapped his hands together and smiled, much like a cheerleader. Yeek.

"Now, let's start with your scrumptious partner, Terry." He pulled McGinnis by the arm (who looked like he was fighting the urge to puke) to the large platform behind us. It was about 3 ½ feet high and covered in a white cloth.

"Stand up straight with your feet apart, head slightly turned, hands loose and relax."

Every time Petey touched him, he winced. Maybe this won't be so bad after all.

"How long will I have to stand like this?"

"10 to 15 minutes."

His shoulders slumped. The afternoon was looking up.

45 minutes later…

Terry rubbed the back of his neck and leaned against the wall, finally finished with his poses. I clutched his jacket tighter, nervous as Petey came for me. He pulled me up to the stage.

"Come on, girlie, show that beautiful body!" he exclaimed as he pulled off the jacket and I kind of huddled uncomfortably, hands crossed over my breasts.

"Yeah, Max, flaunt it." Terry whispered lowly with a smirk. I glared at him over my shoulder. Pete clucked his tongue disapprovingly and pried my arms from over my chest. He sat me down on the platform, curling my legs underneath me to the side, one hand resting down, and one on my right knee. My heart hammered in my chest and the room felt warmer. I fought the urge to glance at Terry and tried not to look so nervous.

"Begin."

The sound of the clock on the wall behind me filled the room, getting louder as each second passed. The class was dead quite except for the few sounds of scratching utensils and my own breathing. It felt like eternity, as Terry had mentioned before. An eternity to wonder how I would tell him about Dana.

40 minutes later…

"Now, here comes the fun part! Pairings!" Pete squealed. Both of us blushed simultaneously.

"First pose…" he paused, a hand cupping his feminine chin in thought.

"Terry, come and sit sideways on the platform."

He did. Pete pushed me to the platform. I sat reluctantly.

"Align your bodies, please." I slid back until Terry's bare chest met my back. At the first touch of our skin, I bristled and stiffened. I put my hand on one knee and the other at my side, propping me up. McGinnis did the same, but settled his hand on my waist, putting us at a very close position. My pulse quickened. I could feel his steady heartbeat through my back.

"Jesus, Max, relax, it's just me." He whispered in my ear.

"Perfect! Alright, ten minutes class."

Silence. Absolute silence. The only thing I could hear was my own heartbeat thundering blood through my ears. Dammit…I shouldn't be this damn nervous. Hormones were shooting around in me, making me feel like I was burning up. It was as if the whole world had slowed down to this one moment. Our bodies molded together felt…good. Better than anything I'd ever experienced. It felt…right, like we were meant for each other. I almost shook my head. No, get back to reality. Terry probably didn't feel anything for me except friendship. I could tell he was utterly comfortable this close to me while I jumped every time he moved. When I was away from him, I could almost talk myself out of it, but it always came back the second he was near me. Why did I feel this way now? It hadn't been this bad any other time before. We had always been best friends, never really romantically interested in each other to the point where we'd admit it but now…maybe it was because I'd always thought of him as "taken" but now that Dana broke up with him I felt…different.

Just when I was getting comfortable, Pete called the time and we had to switch again. I stood up, stretched my legs and exhaled, relieved not to be so close to him now.

"You two look like the perfect little couple all snuggled up together!"

Petey grinned mischievously. My face exploded in a blush once more. Good thing no one can see it. Terry stood behind me and his hand brushed my backside. I glared at him and he grinned. Men.

"Next pose, I need Mr. McGinnis sitting, legs slightly open."

He fought not to make another repulsed face and stiffly complied.

"Miss Gibson, in front of him, please."

Still frowning and blushing, I sat and scooted back a little. Pete waved me back so I kept scooting until we were chest to back once more, his abs tracing the line of my spine. I could feel his breath on the nape of my neck and my heart skipped a beat. I tried to be casual but it wasn't working. Dammit.

Pete fixed my arms into my lap, hands lying on top of each other and pulled Terry's arms under them, palms up, so we were holding hands. Weird, but artful…I guess.

The next drawing session began.

I started counting the blocks on the opposite wall to pass the time, thinking,

'_Just be cool, it's no big deal, you're best friends, it's not like that.' _

Mentally, I snorted. Yeah, right.

I was getting used to the warmth of his skin, like a big, cozy blanket of flesh, intoxicating, relaxing. I felt like going to sleep with his arms around me. It was too intimate for words.

Minutes felt like hours, now. I was getting tired of all this silence. So was Terry.

"You bored yet?" he murmured, so low that only I heard him.

"Yep, been bored."

"My back can't take much more of this 'sitting up straight' stuff. Yaay for slouching."

I fought off a chuckle, covering it by clearing my throat.

"You smell good. What kind of perfume is that?"

He sniffed my neck and it tickled. I tried really hard not to hit him, or laugh.

"Chanel Experience." I whispered back, discreetly pushing my shoulder into his chest to give me some room. He chuckled and it slid down my spine. Eek.

I sighed very quietly and started counting bats in my head. I got to 127 when Pete called time.

"Alrighty, it's 6:30 and time to go!"

The students started packing up and both of us relaxed, automatically slouching. I slid off the platform, dying to hide in his jacket, again, not sure of the reason, though.

"Great job, pupils! We're meeting here tomorrow and you can dress normally. I'll have long clothes for you to change into." I sighed in relief, grabbing McGinnis' jacket from a stool. It was still slightly warm.

"See you tomorrow!" the model instructor sang as we left for the locker room a couple of doors down. This was a school, after all. One I'd never heard of, as a matter of fact.

"Well, wasn't that fun?" Terry grumbled, pulling on his pants. Come to think of it, I enjoyed seeing him in his boxers…no one heard that…

I snorted, pulling my own jeans back on. "Yeah, a barrel of laughs."

We dressed and I handed his jacket back, heading for our cars.

"I gotta go straight to Wayne's so I'll see you later tonight."

I nodded and got in my car.

…

Kyoko: (grins) That was fun! And now, review responses:

**Girlgambit**: Max just feels bad for him since he's Batman and can't be the best boyfriend because of his responsibility. You'll find out what happens next chapter! (Impish Wink of Suspense) Thanks for reviewing!

**Blade's Daughter:** I love T/M pairings too! That's why I wrote this! There aren't enough! Thanks for the review!

**Kim:** You shall wait no longer! Next chappie's coming up soon too, but I'm still writing the end and stuff. Thanks for reviewing!

**Chrissa**: Don't worry about the poor people: they don't know the glory that is Terry McGinnis! CONVERT THEM! (runs around converting random people) Heh, sorry, randomness. Thanks for the review! Hope you like the new chappie!

**Andy Quinn:** In the words of my brother, "ALL HOMOS MUST DIE!!" XD…J/K. I luffle this fic too. You should write one. And try not to lose it. (glares) Thankies!

**Spicy Tears:** Yes, I have something very evil planned for them soon…once I figure out what that is, I'll get back to you. XD…Thanks for reviewing!

Next Chapter…nightmares, a fight and Max's tears! See ya!

-Kyoko Kasshu Minamino


	3. Two fights and a kiss

On the Catwalk 

Chapter 3

A/N: Okies, quick thing. I know in this chapter Max's seems to be over reacting about the Dana thing and I'm sorry, I dramatize everything in my fics, perhaps too much. I just think she might have felt really guilty and it confuses her own feelings for Terry. Sorry to slow ya down. Here's

the next chappie. Ja ne!

-Kyoko

…

I had a nightmare. Dana's words echoed through my head, nagging, yelling, screaming at me. I tried to run from it but it bounced around in the darkness. It was choking me, smothering me until…

"Max!"

My eyes shot open. Darkness faded from my vision into the shape of Batman's mask. Terry's hands were on my shoulders. I sat up all the way and shook the images out of my head. "What? What is it?"

"You were having a nightmare."

Even with the mask on, I could see the worry and concern on his face. He reluctantly let go of me as I pulled back the covers.

"Max…"

I didn't answer, distractedly dragging the AP Biology book out from under the sheets.

"Max." I looked at him. He was very worried now. "What's wrong?"

I shook my head. "Nothing. I'm fine." He caught my arms and forced me to look at him. I knew I didn't look fine, frowning with sadness, scared to tell him what was tormenting me.

"Max, look at me. I'm your friend. Tell me what's wrong. Please."

I bit my lip, shaking my head and closing my eyes because I couldn't let him see the pain in them. A tear slid down my cheek and I hated it. His hand brushed my tear away and I found myself cradled against his chest. I buried my face in his shoulder and tried not to cry but the tears wouldn't stop. I cried because I couldn't tell him, I cried because I loved him, I cried because his heart would break, I cried because my heart would break if it didn't have his.

The night wore on in interminable darkness.

…

The next day…

Terry and I rapidly walked through the hallway, trying to avoid…

"Hey! McGinnis!"

…Nelson. Dammit.

Terry and I turned to see Nelson and his usual groupies filling the hallway, which had gone strangely quiet.

"Glad to finally come out of the closet?"

His cronies laughed, but everyone else looked nervously between Terry and the impending moron.

"Oh yeah? Well, what's your job, Nelson? A garbage man? A janitor? That's about all your poor little brain can handle."

Nelson turned purple with embarrassment and a few girls laughed. He balled his fist angrily. "At least I'm not strutting around in pink!" he shot back bitterly.

"For all you know, that jacket you're wearing is pink." Everyone went "Oooh" and laughed as we continued down the hall.

"Tough words, McGinnis. But that ain't what you're girl said last night."

Terry froze and so did the blood in my veins. Crap!

He turned, fury coiling dangerously in his limbs. Nelson grinned triumphantly. Terry took a step forward. I touched his arm. He looked at me and I hissed, "Terry, don't. He's not worth it."

"You should listen to her, McGinnis. It'd be a shame to get your face messed up before you pose for Avon." The idiot continued. Terry's eyes narrowed, a very bad sign.

"That's why your little girlfriend was over my house last night. No one likes a metro-"

The sentence never finished coming out of his mouth because Terry's fist connected with it. He fell back into a couple of people, wincing as blood slid down his chin. (Kyoko: Nobody makes me bleed my own blood! NOBODY! Akimi: (smacks forehead) )

"Nice shot, dreg. Too bad it'll be the only you'll get in."

"Bring it," Terry growled.

I could only watch as Nelson took the beating of his life. Only when Dana stepped between them did Terry lower his fists.

"I'm sorry. I didn't have the guts to tell you." She cried.

"Tell me what?"

'_No, no, no, dammit! It wasn't supposed to happen like this!_' I screamed in my mind.

"Didn't Max tell you? It's over. I'm going out with Nelson now."

Terry's eyes widened, a slight tremor running down his back. As he turned to me, I shrank back, a tear sliding down my face.

"I'm sorry."

I couldn't take the look in his eyes so I pushed past them, running. I was stupid for waiting this long. He called my name but I kept running.

Kept running like I'd done my whole life.

…

Night. I don't know what time.

I huddled on a park bench by myself, sniffling. I would have gone home but he would be there. I didn't want to see him. Not after what had happened today. I couldn't.

The wind blew shivers down my spine, drying the tears on my face. I wiped them away and closed my eyes.

"What's wrong, sweet cheeks?"

I opened my eyes to see four Jokerz, all male, coming for me. Shit!

I quickly stood and grimaced as they surrounded me.

"It's none of your business."

"How 'bout we make it our business?" The leader jeered, grabbing my chin. I elbowed him in the throat once he was close enough to touch. He collapsed into a kneel, clutching his throat, and gasped out, "_Get her!_"

The next Joker charged and I kicked him in the nuts. The other two grabbed my arms. I struggled, screaming, "Let me go!"

The lead Joker recovered and punched me in the stomach. I doubled over, winded. He grabbed a handful of my hair and punched me in the face. I fell, curling into a barely conscious ball. Darkness swallowed my vision but before it did, a red bat flashed in front of my eyes.

…

I didn't even remember the ride home, just opening my eyes and being in Terry's arms. He carried me up to my room wordlessly. I was strong enough to sit up on the bed as he went to the bathroom. I slid my shoes off, trying to stop the world from spinning in front of my eyes. He came back with a small bag of ice and a cold cloth. I winced as the cold cloth touched the back of my neck and as the ice touched my cheek. He let me hold it and moved away, going to the window. Silence folded over us for a handful of moments until I lanced nervously and shamefully at him. I put the ice pack down and rose, going over to him. I stared out the window at the dark horizon, rubbing my arm, lost for words.

"Thanks for saving me, I…I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't come."

He didn't answer and I sighed heavily.

"I'm…sorry about Dana. I didn't know how to tell you and…I didn't want to see you hurt."

"Max…if you would have just told me, I would have understood. Dana and I…Dana and I have been breaking up since we got together." He shrugged.

"It's a burden I have to carry, not you. Stop being so damn selfless, I wanna suffer too."

A small smile touched my lips. He started to walk away and I blurted out his name before I knew what I was going to say. He turned back to me and I blushed, faltering.

"N-Never mind…"

"Come on, Max. It took me forever to get anything out of you before." He came closer, which was not an improvement since my hormones were running amok. I shouldn't have said anything but for a second, I was lost in the depth of his eyes, that wondrous blue like the inside of a flame.

"I love you."

"See? That wasn't so hard." He whispered, lips slowly inching for mine. The first kiss was gentle, inviting and intoxicating. He tasted so good. I wanted more.

The kiss grew deeper and my arms wound around his neck while his hands snaked around my waist. Our mouths explored each other's almost involuntarily, I shivered as his hands found their way under my shirt, touching my bare skin, and tracing my side up to the bra. I purred against his mouth, hands buried in his hair, lost in the throes of passion.

This was what I had wanted for so long, longed for it, dreamed of it, of this moment; just being held in his arms, the taste of his mouth, the warmth of his body. It made me happier than I'd ever been in my life.

An annoying ring sounded in Terry's jacket pocket. He pulled away, muttering, "Slaggit…"

Spoke too soon.

He opened his cell phone and checked the number.

"It's Wayne. I'm s'posed to be on duty." I nodded, too breathless to speak. Embarrassment sort of hovered around but didn't settle. Terry kissed me shortly and grabbed his backpack. "I gotta go. I'll catch up later."

With that, he shut the door behind him and left.

I should have been angry, but I wasn't. I touched my lips, licked them, and could still taste his mouth. It had really happened. Numbly, I undressed and took a shower, then crawled in my bed. I hugged my pillow tight and smiled, drifting into the warm embrace of sleep.

…

Kyoko: (hangs head) Ugh, the Nelson-Terry fight sucked, huh? I SUCK at doing confrontations and fights. I can occasionally do a decent one, but that wasn't it. Sorry. Oh, I posted the first chapter to my other BB fic, starring ME as the OC! It's part of a series I've written and I PROMISE it's good so PLEASE read it. I'm about to put the next chapter for it and this. Well, I'm still writing this one so it might be a minute. Thanks for the 2nd chapter reviews everyone! (peace sign)

Next chapter: More modeling and more making out!


	4. Accidentally in love

On the Catwalk 

Chapter 4

Kyoko: (limps into room sadly) I. Am SO. Sorry. I have left you hanging for SO long. I apologize. Please don't hate me and hit me with large objects any more. I promise to update more often on this story, but I've been on Writer's Block for a long time. (hides)

Terry: She really means it, folks. Leave her alone.

Kyoko: I do not own Batman Beyond. I hope this chapter makes up for my absence. Ja.

…

The next afternoon…

"I'm surprised you didn't get suspended for kicking Nelson's ass." I grinned softly with an eyebrow raised as we walked down the hallway to Pete's classroom.

Terry shrugged, smirking. "Yeah, well, you know how many people hate Nelson so almost everybody said he hit me first. Yaay for geeks and nerds."

I pretended to scowl. "Well excuse me, Mr. High-and-Mighty-Popular Guy! If it weren't for us "geeks and nerds", you'd still be in the eight grade!"

He swayed, a hand clutched to his chest like I'd stabbed him in the heart, a mock pout covering his face.

"Why, Max, I'd never call you a geek!"

I rolled my eyes.

"You're more of a nerd!"

"McGinnis!" I growled, raising a fist to pop him one, although the laugh bubbling out of my throat ruined the threat.

He opened the door to the classroom and Pete greeted us cheerfully. Today, he was "graced" with a light purple button up shirt, khakis, and matching purple loafers. His light golden hair was parted to the left and oiled to stay in place.

"Good evening, my darlings!" He chirped, winking at us. Terry shuddered and I fought back a giggle. Pete picked up a medium sized box and handed it to Terry.

"The white one goes to Miss Gibson and the baby blue one goes to you. Go get dressed, quickly!" He shooed us off and we retreated to the locker room.

I pushed Terry to the other side of the lockers so I could change while he protested playfully, "What? You don't trust me not to peek?"

"Nope."

I held up the white garment and recognized it as a kimono, from way back in the 1800's in Japan. Yeah, yeah, I used to watch Rurouni Kenshin when I was a kid, so what? Well, that and World History textbooks, anyway. The patterns at the bottom were waves of light blue and dark blue flowers. It would look crazy mixed with my hot pink hair, but it was pretty.

I started getting dressed.

"These look like pajamas." Terry stated matter-of-factly. I grinned.

"Maybe it's a hint."

"A hint of what?" He said flatly, suspicious. I couldn't help myself.

"He wants to sleep with you."

He came barreling from behind the lockers, face flaming indignantly.

"That's it!"

I laughed as he playfully shoved me against the locker behind me, pinning my wrists.

"Let me go, you homophobe!" I half-demanded, squirming.

"Not until you take that back."

I rolled my eyes, defeated, and pouted. "Ok, ok, I take it back."

I was suddenly aware of how close we were together. His face softened and he loosened his grip on my arms, gently trailing his fingers down my forearm.

"The kimono looks nice on you," he commented softly. I touched the front of his shirt, tracing the line of buttons down his stomach.

"But not as nifty as your p.j's." We grinned at each other. He moved forward and kissed me gently, a soft touch of lips. I opened my mouth to him and kissed him back. He pulled me into his body, arms encircling my waist.

Amidst all the joys of making out, a nagging thought poked my brain. Reluctantly, I pulled back.

He frowned slightly, eyebrows drawn together. "What's wrong?"

Actually, I wasn't sure. It was as if some part of me was like, 'Dude, this is Terry. You shouldn't be making out with your best friend just because he's available.' I took a couple of breaths and stared up at him.

"Don't you feel a little…funny?"

The question caught him off-guard. His eyebrows raised and he opened his mouth, closed it, then spoke.

"Well…a little, yeah."

I licked my lips and could still taste his mouth. I sighed.

"It's not you, it's just…maybe my 'best friend' senses are going off."

He started to speak but I put a finger to his lips, silencing him.

"It's not you, I promise but…maybe we're taking this too fast. I love being with you, don't ever doubt that but…we kind of rushed into things."

He nodded and moved back to give me some breathing space. The awkward silence was broken as Pete knocked on the door. I went out first, heart still rapidly pulsing through my body.

…

An hour later…

As the class filed out of the room, I slid off of the platform, smoothing the wrinkled cloth over my thighs and sighed, happy that it was finally over. Pete was finishing up his daily grades and Terry leaned nonchalantly against the wall, waiting for me. But I had a question at the back of my mind.

"Mr. Pete?"

He looked up at me, smiling as usual.

"Yes, dear?"

"What does posing for an art class have to do with modeling?"

He set down his grade book next to purple laptop on his desk.

"I am so glad you asked, Miss Gibson. You see, the poses you did for the class sessions were just practice for when you will be doing photo shoots later on in the week. A very large part of modeling has to do with still photos instead of just runway shows and covers. I had you do bikinis one day and long clothing the next to give you examples of different types of clothing that you will be wearing."

He then shuffled through his grade book and handed me two pieces of paper with directions on them.

"Meet me there tomorrow at six o'clock. You don't need to bring anything. And tonight, I want you to research five careers that you can go into from taking modeling classes, due tomorrow as well. You are dismissed!"

I turned and handed Terry his paper and scanned it briefly as I walked down the hallway to the dressing room.

"Oh, goody. We get to do the real thing tomorrow." Terry mumbled, his voice thick with sarcasm.

I pushed open the door to the dressing room and set down my paper, fiddling with the haori around my waist to untie it.

"Aw, you're just mad because it won't make you look _manly_." I teased. I heard him snort from across the room.

"Do you think it would be "manly" if I hit Mr. Petey with a chair?"

I choked back a laugh as I opened the kimono and stepped out of its skirts.

"That sounds more along the lines of homicidal."

"More like homo-cidal."

I laughed. "You are insane."

"Of course. Why else would you hang out with me?"

I snorted and almost said, "To jump your bones," but didn't. Didn't want to sound shallow. I settled for, "Insane minds think alike."

"Too true. I gotta go to Wayne's right after this so I'll see you around ten."

I buttoned my jeans and laced up my Chucks, then turned to him. He leaned down and gave me a quick kiss before shouldering his duffel bag.

"I'll see you then." I said, smiling as I watched him go. I slid my own bag over my shoulder and wondered how things had changed so fast.

…

"So you're telling me that becoming a porn star is not a career drawn from modeling?"

I rolled my eyes and kept writing. "No, it's an _inappropriate_ career drawn from modeling."

Terry pouted playfully at me and sighed, leaning his head on his hand boredly.

"Fine. Take away my fun, why don't you."

I snorted. "Please. You just want an excuse to "research" Lindsay Lohan porn."

He made a face. "Dude, she's like fifty something now. Sure, she was hot back in 2005, but now…yikes. Although she was pretty hot on that cover of Playboy in 2010…"

I rolled my eyes again. "One-track mind."

"Yep. I sure do love studying."

I laughed lightly. "Oh really?"

"You betcha. Especially if it's with you."

The last comment he added softly. I looked at him then. His smile was gentler, more genuine then the smirk that had been there before. I leaned towards him and kissed those soft lips tenderly, affectionately, and it just felt right. I couldn't resist the dopey smile that crossed my lips as I went back to writing my paper, feeling properly gooey inside. Ah, well. That's what happens when you accidentally fall in love. And I had been falling for a long time.

…

Kyoko: 00; Wow. I just realize I keep accidentally adding more of myself into Max. Sorry about that. I hope it's not taking away from the story. I hope to have next chapter up soon. Hang in there and thanks for all the support so far! Later!


	5. The One Where Strange Things Start

On the Catwalk 

Chapter 5

Kyoko: OO My GOD. It's been so long. I don't even wanna remember how long it's been since I've updated this fic. I have been on one of those "god-awful, OMGWTFIHAVENNOCREATIVITYLEFT!" kind of Writer's Blocks. I cannot apologize enough for my long absence. So I'll just make Terry and Bruce do it.

Terry: (glares at Kyo) I hate you so very much…

Bruce: Likewise.

Kyoko: Too bad. Now read my apologies or I'll use my 3VOL Authoress powers on you l13k w04.

Terry: (grouchily)

I'm sorry for the absence

I know it makes no sense

For such a great story

To be gone so long

And not here for all the fame and glory

Of joy and song

Bruce: …

Kyoko: (clears throat)

Bruce: (glares at Kyoko) …

Kyoko: (waves Blackmail picture in front of his face) Do you WANT this released on the Internet?

Bruce: This is coming out of your paycheck.

Terry: Just don't pay her. She doesn't deserve any money for doing this to us-OW! (rubs back of head after Kyo whacks him)

Bruce: (sighs angrily)

You readers are great

For waiting patiently

As my plot finally fell while running

Away from me

Hopefully it'll get better

And you'll keep reading 'til the end

Or else I'll die of loneliness

Because you're not my friends.

The End.

Kyoko: There. My apologies. I hope this chapter can make up for how long I've been gone. I'd also like to thank my reviewers for beating about the face and neck until I updated. I needed that. (puts ice pack on neck) Even though it was extremely painful...Hope this can compensate for your waiting!

…

The Gotham City Model Association. The GCMA. I never thought I'd be here. Actually, I hoped I'd never _have_ to be here. Figures.

The building was about 8 stories high and on a lonely street corner between Old town Gotham and the New town Gotham. The parking lot was a couple of blocks down so Terry and I had to walk down the sidewalk past a couple of the few remaining flower shops and candy stores. So many people just bought all their stuff online that they could barely stay open any more.

We approached the glass doors and Terry opened it for me, smiling mockingly as he quipped, "Ladies first."

I rolled my eyes and stepped inside, the first to feel a blast of cold air as we entered the lobby. It looked like the building had formerly been a hotel; a check-in counter was between two hallways leading to rooms and elevators slowly rising up to the top floors. I dug in my jacket pocket for the paper of directions and approached the counter at which a skinny kid with jet-black hair was on the phone and putting people on hold. Ah, minimum wage jobs. Society couldn't function without you.

"Excuse me?" The kid looked up boredly, moving the mic on his headset to answer in a flat voice,

"Yes? May I help you?"

"Um, we're looking for Pete Wilkinson? We have an…appointment." I answered, gesturing to the paper. He sat up and eyed me from head to toe, a skeptical look on his face.

"You really wanna be a model? Looks like you might have too much body for it."

I arched an eyebrow, wondering if I should be offended or flattered. I chose the former. Terry, however, wouldn't stand for it.

"Regardless, what floor is Room H256 on?" He cut in, stepping forward to stop the kid before he could say anything further. The kid's eyes widened and what looked like an uncharacteristically wide smile spread across his mouth.

"The 8th floor. _You_, however, have the face to be a great model. I could get you a _private_ interview…" The guy offered. Terry's face contorted with the effort not projectile vomit into his face. I coughed into my hand to avoid laughing.

"Uh, no thanks. Let's go, Max." He grabbed me hand and headed for a elevator. We found one going up and he let go of my hand, crossing his arms across his chest. I finally allowed myself a giggle.

"What is it with you and gay guys? They all love you."

He glared piercingly at me. "Hey, it is not my fault. I must be cursed or something."

"Or maybe they think they can convert you because you're so delicate and pretty…"

His glare intensified but the elevator door opened and we stepped in it, Terry monotoning, "Level 8" to the system's computer. The doors closed and we were elevated slowly up to the 8th floor of the building.

I sighed, moving back the sleeve of my jacket to check the time. "So, what d'you think we'll encounter?"

Terry shrugged moodily, hands in his pockets. "Half-naked models, cameras, and probably lots and lots of celery."

I grinned in spite of my nervousness. "Sweet. Maybe I can get some male models' numbers," I teased, waiting for his reaction.

He leaned against the wall of glass, hands stuffed in his pockets, and tossed me a mild side-glance, then relaxed into a mischievous smile.

"So could I."

"Is that a challenge?"

He shrugged carelessly, joining in on my intended game of cat-and-mouse. So much for taking it slow.

"You're no competition for me."

I rolled my eyes again and the elevator stopped, the doors opening to expose the 8th floor. The walls were painted a normal, office sort of white, and the two elevators across from us separated the hallways. We exited and after scanning door numbers posted on the center or each one, went down the left hallway, finding our room number near the end of the corridor.

I inhaled deeply after side-glancing furtively at McGinnis, then opened the door.

The room was massive and had a charcoal gray floor, as if someone had ripped up the carpet and only concrete was left. A runway was placed about 10 feet from the door with rows of simple blue chairs on both sides, like a recreation of an actual model scene. A wall separated the stage from the photo shoot going on next to it, automatic cameras whizzing through the air as they took pictures of the pouty-lipped princesses and metrosexual-looking males.

The door shut behind me with a slam making me jump, and a huge man with sunglasses and the basic bodyguard black outfit walked towards Terry and I, a clip board clutched in his massive paw.

"Names?"

"Terry McGinnis and Maxine Gibson," Terry interjected for me, since I was still a bit speechless from the room itself. The guy, "Timothy" his shirt tag read, scanned the clipboard and looked up, nodding.

"Mr. Wilkinson is in the photo shoot area."

We nodded and walked past the runway, watching the models practice walking up and down it and pivot. Pete was encouraging a blonde model, decked out in fox fur and 4-inch gold heels. Interesting.

He looked up at us and that painfully familiar 100-watt smile blazed in our faces. "That's good enough, Tiffany, you can go take a five minute break." He called to the blonde. She stood up from her former crouching position and smiled slyly at Terry as she slinked past us towards a small table set up with fruits, vegetables, and water. She was around 5'8'', long, bouncy blonde hair, lithe, curvy body, and deep blue eyes. Every girlfriend's worst nightmare. He watched her saunter away and I eyed him sarcastically as Pete talked to the photographer manning the hover cameras. Pete turned back towards us before I could retort something scathing.

"Thank you for arriving on time! This is the model shoot you're going to be working on for the rest of the week. This is Harvey Mace, our main photographer," The mentioned waved a hand at us while fiddling with one of the cams, "and that delicious little morsel at the snack bar is Tiffany Welling. She's one of our best models."

"I'll say," Terry muttered under his breath, watching her slim form as she hovered over the fruit plate. I rolled my eyes.

"Anyway, first you will be instructed how to walk, talk, live, and breathe like a professional model. You will be graded on effort and execution of what you have been taught. I will occasionally stop by to check your progress and there will be a test on your last day. But first, I'd like you to meet one more person."

Timothy the security guy came barreling towards us, removing his sunglasses to reveal bright green eyes. He had a shaved head and face, strong cut cheekbones, a hooking, pointed nose, and was apparently trying to appear nonchalant, though it went over as harrowing and scary.

"Timothy Malcolm, one of our best trainers." Mr. Malcolm shook our hands firmly with his enormous grip. Surprise, surprise.

"Mr. McGinnis," Pete continued. "You'll be working with Ms. Welling," Tiffany reappeared beside McGinnis, who grinned triumphantly at me. "And Miss Maxine, you'll be working with Mr. Malcolm."

I almost flinched, resisting the urge to lift an eyebrow. This hulking mass of ungainly man was going to teach me how to be a model? He looked as if he should be coaching the Gotham Knights football team, or heck, a linebacker for them.

Pete patted us both on the arms. "Do your best. I know you'll do great. Be gentle with her, Tim." He turned heel and headed away behind the camera equipment, going towards the exit. Maybe I should follow him.

Tiffany took Terry's arm and led him away, thankfully changed out of the fox fur and golden lingerie to a clingy red dress and black heels, speaking in a sinfully honey-sweet voice, "This way, sweetheart. We'll start with your walking."

I heard Terry wondering, "What's wrong with my walk?" before the towering man known as Timothy caught my attention with his deep, gravelly voice.

"Maxine, is it?"

I nodded too many times, a more than a little nervous. This guy could give Mr. Wayne a run for his money as far as creepy voices go.

"Have you ever had any modeling experiences?"

I shook my head. "This is my first time doing any of--"

"That's enough. You answered the question. That's all I need to know."

He stalked past me to the area where a sheet had been laid against the wall and on the floor and started to unroll a blue leather mat that had been leaning against the wall. I watched him a bit apprehensively, not very surprised at his attitude. He stood up straight, beckoning me. I met him on the mat, wondering if I should take off my shoes, hands crossed under my chest.

"Modeling is the art of silence, beauty, and deception. You will need poise, grace, and _obedience_ to be able to handle it. Do you possess such talents, Miss Gibson?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. Anything else?" I quipped, grinning confidently. He frowned at me.

"Yes. Did I not mention that silence is a key point to modeling? Let your body do the talking. Now, down on the mat, legs spread."

I blinked. "What? I'm not working on my walk?"

"It would seem apparent since you are not over there on the stage now, isn't it? You aren't ready to walk yet. You haven't even crawled." Malcolm replied with cold indifference. My temper flared slightly.

"I'm more ready than _he_ is." I retorted, jabbing a thumb towards McGinnis, who had what appeared to be a dictionary on his head and was attempting to walk with it staying that was and failing miserably.

"No, you are not. Either you do this my way or you do not do it at all." He answered, crossing his huge arms.

'_Great. Piss him off. That'll improve your grade a lot. Better do what he says before he snaps you in two with his pinky toe,' _I scolded myself. Rolling my eyes, I plopped down on the mat and pried off my Chucks, spreading my legs like the great white sergeant had instructed me to.

"We're going to start with leg stretches and then move to upper body exercises…"

…

Kyoko: That's all for now. Gotta leave room for more chapters. Hope this makes up for my loooong absence! More to come ASAP! Thanks for hanging in here with me! I appreciate it so much. Don't forget to review and tell me what you think! Bye!


	6. Remember me?

**On the Catwalk**

A/N: Ahem. After a very vigorous and well-placed review from one OtButterflyGirl, I have decided to go ahead and rewrite "On the Catwalk". It's probably going to end up more of a revamp than a rewrite, but since my writing style has changed over the past year-and-a-half, I can't let it die as it is. Plus, I'm disappointing all of my reviewers and you guys rock. So…if I get 10 reviews from this notice, I promise to post the rewritten "On the Catwalk" by the end of this month. Fair enough? If not, too bad. :D

I love you all,

Minamino Kyoko


	7. Fate Chooses its Course

Dear Fanfiction Readers,

Due to the responses I've gotten…you win. :D I wrote the first chapter of the new and revamped version of On the Catwalk, which can be seen here. But I'm a hard woman to please so I need full support to continue it. Make sure you review and tell me how you like the changes or if you don't. Thank you so much for all of your support. I appreciate it more than you know.

The rewritten version has been posted as "On the Catwalk AGAIN!". Go to my Profile page and it's there for your reading pleasure. Enjoy.

Thanks again,

Minamino Kyoko


End file.
